


[Sidestory] What Melkor Does All Day

by an_evasive_author



Series: EggVerse [3]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Exposition, Short One Shot, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 02:18:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19347538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_evasive_author/pseuds/an_evasive_author
Summary: Expostion-heavy sidestory for the Eggverse.There is a reason Arda is so peaceful. Mostly becausesomeonenever had the chance to meddle with it.





	[Sidestory] What Melkor Does All Day

Between the spaces of all that was, there was the Void. It held no hidden wonders, no forgotten beauties away from the grace of the Valar.

 

In fact, the Void was generally used as something of a dumping ground for things no one wanted.

 

Everything no one had any use for ended here sooner or later. Beasts that would chew on precious elves, corrupting contamination that spilled from the cracks between the spaces of Ea, Melkor; In short: Harmful things that needed to be contained somewhere and had absolutely no place anywhere else.

 

Melkor was the only thing that had remained for any substantial amount of time. He was the Lord of the Void, sole swayer and master of Nothing.

 

It was only him in here.

 

Suffice to say that he, after such a long time, had become rather _bored_ with his own company and so everything with a mind, with any sort of awareness or indication of being able to feel anything generally ended up being played with.

 

'Played with' was somewhat of a misnomer, for all the other Valar would have defined Melkor's idea of playing as 'being tortured until begging for death'.

 

But in these last centuries things had become rather quiet. Less creatures found their way to this realm's ruler. Melkor was alone for most of the time. However long that was.

 

Somehow it was less fun to be the undeniable owner of this place if there was nothing to subjugate and conquer...

 

But he was a prisoner of this place, a perfect cage engineered by Manwë who had utterly tired of Melkor's pranks. 'Pranks' was a very generous term. The other Valar rather called it 'Senseless destruction of all they held dear'. The spoilsports...

 

He supposed he could not fault his brother; Manwë had done the very same thing Melkor would have done, though the motives likely varied. He did not know if Manwë felt joy, pride about having his brother locked in the Void.

 

Melkor would have; He would have gloated and not a moment would have gone by where he would not have reminded Manwë of this.

 

Maybe he would have opened the gate every so often; To foster hope only to smash it close when the burning white flame of his brother's being roared from somewhere in the endless space, racing towards freedom like a falling star.

 

All Valar had a purpose; A nature they could not ignore, not deny; For denying was as close to impossible as anything would ever be for a god.

 

Manwë's was to guide and to help thrive. Melkor's was to destroy and to hurt.

 

There was a conflict of interest and from the very beginning the two brothers had tried their best to incapacitate one another; To foil their calling before the other could succeed in the endless plan Eru had thought off. Manwë understood much of this plan; Melkor nearly nothing but the rudimentary.

 

It had never stopped him from trying to grind it all to ash and dust.

 

Melkor had started with something of a disadvantage and when he had started to whirl through creation like a storm of despair and decay; Still in his true form for back then there had been no need of hroa's...

 

Well, needless to say that there had been words. Many of them while Manwë and his posse had hunted him down like a wild animal with fire and fangs and radiant light harsh enough to burn parts of his intangible form.

 

Manwë had been angry and Melkor had _liked_ that. Then Manwë had admonished him, which Melkor had not liked. In the end there where chains and Melkor had promised through gritted teeth to better himself. There might have been some manner of grovelling and imploring on Melkor's part but he never did dwell on the memories for long. It hurt his self-esteem...

 

But Manwë had sighed, dismissed the Valar who called for his ichor to be spilled and led his brother towards a familiar place; The one they had first stepped upon this plane of existence. There had been a long, boring talk between the brothers, the last one they ever had, come to think of it; Manwë had vexed him with questions before he had uttered, almost in passing, the words that could make Melkor abandon all caution. The Flame Imperishable. The one thing Melkor desired above all else.

 

And Manwë had promised it to him, should his brother comply.

 

Manwë had been a little more ruthless than Melkor had suspected and so he had had no quarrel in luring his brother to the gate where Existence and the Void where cut of and yet connected and had asked, smiling that pleasant, pliant- dim-witted smile all the while, “Brother, do you see it?”

 

He had pointed to somewhere in the endless infinity.

 

And when Melkor had moved closer to see, perhaps hoping to find what he had indeed been desiring so greatly as to not doubt his brother, Manwë had pushed him into the Void, sealed the gate and gone home to his wife to watch her tend to her stars. Just like that.

 

No one had ever returned to see to him.

 

There would not be a second chance to (not) reform himself. No second try at annihilating everything his brother cherished in this world. Because Melkor would have. And both knew it.

 

Manwë had a dark streak to him, one Melkor had wished he had sensed earlier. Perhaps he could have found a way to lever that darkness to his own purposes. Or maybe Manwë would have struck him down with even greater fury than before. Who could say now?

 

In a sense his brother had been as mercurial in his pursuits of seeing Eru's plans fulfilled as Melkor had been in trying to destroy it.

 

Melkor hated his brother. But Melkor hated everything, so Manwë could not even claim to be special in that regard. Hate was work, it was effort. And Melkor did not exert effort for much.

 

And yet Melkor had all the time and none of the distractions that could keep him from fostering and sheltering the hate that kept him alive. It was not as if there was anything else to do but simmer his scorn over the centuries he spent trapped in here. How long had it been...? He had lost his last thread to the outside world and with it the ability to gauge the machinations of Ea some three centuries ago. Ever since then, it might as well have been a few Ages or only the blink of an eye.

 

Playthings where so rare to come by...

 

Alone in the Void, Melkor drifted and dreamed empty, ashen dreams.

 


End file.
